


darts, drinks, and dirty tricks

by shedreamsofstars



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Royai - Freeform, Team Mustang shenanigans, and riza is perfection as always, in which jean almost figures out what's up, roy's lowkey pining but doesn't realise it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26502547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shedreamsofstars/pseuds/shedreamsofstars
Summary: It’s games night in East City, and Jean Havoc has a plan. Not only will he win the evening’s betting pool, but he’ll also have the satisfaction of pulling a fast one over on Lieutenant Hawkeye to claim the position of best sharpshooter for the night.Dangerous territory? Absolutely. Provided he succeeds that is.Colonel Roy Mustang however has no plans to let his subordinate steal his First Lieutenant’s sharpshooting crown right off her pretty little head. At least, not without throwing a dirty trick of his own into the mix.
Relationships: Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	darts, drinks, and dirty tricks

It was a typically warm and humid East City evening as Colonel Mustang stood up at his desk, his hair a mess of dark strands that perfectly complemented the tired expression on his face.

By any outside account, it would seem as if he had just finished up a long hard day of rigorous paperwork, when the reality was much closer to him having just woken up from an impromptu two-hour nap.

"Well," Roy said brightly, stretching his arms above his head before retaking his seat. "I don't know about you guys, but after the day I've had, I am in dire need of a drink to unwind."

There was a general murmur of agreement from his subordinates. "Isn't it games night?" Falman piped up, poking his head over the large stack of papers in front of him.

"It sure is. So … what are we betting on tonight?"

His First Lieutenant stood attentive to his right, and although she might have been out of his direct line of sight, Roy could already feel her rolling her eyes at him and he sunk further into his seat in satisfaction.

Despite her obvious distaste of gambling, Riza Hawkeye was content to let the boys throw their money at each other so long as they kept _her_ out of it - which they almost never did.

The Colonel eyed the members of his team sprawled haphazardly across their desks with a level look. "I believe it's your turn to choose the evening's entertainment Fuery," he said eventually, turning towards the baby-faced Sergeant and raising an expectant brow.

Cain Fuery squirmed under the Colonel's gaze, as he was prone to do when put on the spot, and Roy could almost see the different options for the night flashing in his glasses. After an impatient sigh from somewhere across the room, most likely Breda, the Master Sergeant's face lit up.

"How about a game of darts, Sir?"

Falman and Breda groaned collectively, both notoriously terrible shots, but one sharp look from the First Lieutenant was enough to have them commending the Master Sergeant with an appreciation bordering on grovelling.

It was amusing to say the least, but Roy found his gaze drawn to the corner desk where his Second Lieutenant, Jean Havoc, sat chewing his cigarette with a conniving smirk plastered on his face.

"Darts, huh," he mused softly, clearly conjuring up some sort of plan in that uniquely chaotic mind of his. Roy couldn't be sure what his subordinate was thinking, but he had the odd feeling that it had something to do with the nights betting pool.

If he let Havoc have his way, he was fairly certain the sharpshooter would be reigning victorious at the end of the night.

Roy didn't like the thought of that one bit. And not only because his underling would lord it over them for weeks. He glanced sidelong at Hawkeye, their reigning champion, and his brows furrowed.

Before he could let himself dwell on the feeling, Roy forced himself to stand. "Well, now that that's settled," he started with a clap, itching to leave the musty office for somewhere livelier. "Who's driving?"

* * *

The military car rattled noisily as Havoc sped through the busy Friday night traffic, the First Lieutenant sitting in the passenger seat whilst the other four piled into the back.

Whenever he was in charge of driving, Hawkeye refused to sit anywhere other than beside him – likely so she could yell at him whenever his irresponsible driving endangered others, which he had to admit was more often than not.

As he caught sight of the woman's stony expression, it seemed today was no different.

So far he'd already been berated twice for manoeuvring the vehicle too close to pedestrians, and he only grinned widely as he corrected his steering. He took it all in his stride, but even with someone keeping an eye on him, Havoc's driving was still borderline reckless.

The team arrived at their local bar in record time, much to the First Lieutenants dismay. Havoc parked up on a quiet road beside the establishment, patting himself on the back for fitting the car into such a tight spot. He frowned at the dark heavy clouds hovering above them for a moment before joining the others as they filed into the building.

The group grabbed their preferred drinks, Hawkeye sticking with a lemon water, before congregating on the sofas towards the back, set out beside an old dart board nailed precariously to the wall.

"What are we playing again?" Havoc asked, shedding as much of his uniform as was appropriate in a public setting before taking a seat, leaving him in a tight black tee and his standard issue trousers.

"Six-oh-one, straight in" Fuery clarified.

"Sweet," he murmured, turning to see the Colonel watching him with a peculiar expression. "What's up boss, worried I'm gonna beat you?"

Mustang shrugged his shoulders half-heartedly before draping himself over the sofa. "Not one bit Havoc. You're all going down anyway."

"Fighting words," he said with a low whistle. "You can't snap your way to victory tonight. You sure you wanna subject yourself to the embarrassment of losing to one of your own sharpshooters?" Havoc joked, flashing his own skill set before his superior.

"I don't recall ever mentioning myself," Roy said smugly. "My money's on Hawkeye," he said, garnering a disappointed shake of the head from the woman in question.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about her winning," Havoc taunted. "What about you boys?"

Breda went with Hawkeye and Fuery with Mustang, whilst Havoc managed to convince Falman to go with him. He wouldn't mind splitting the winnings in the end if it meant he had someone's confidence.

With the bets placed, the games began.

One by one, the team started several rounds of Fuery's chosen game. Some time and several drinks later, Mustang collapsed onto the sofa beside Havoc with a pout.

"It would seem that Hawkeye remains the undefeated champion," he said, clearly sulking at having been obliterated by the woman. "You're gonna need all the luck you can muster if you think you can take her on."

Havoc grinned at his superior. From the Colonels reaction, you wouldn't think the guy had money riding on Hawkeye's victory.

"Don't worry about me, Sir. I've been watching her play all night, and I'm pretty sure I've figured out a strategy to take down the Hawk's Eye."

"Oh really?" Mustang asked, an eyebrow raised in clear amusement. "And how exactly do you plan on defeating my First Lieutenant?"

Havoc sat up a little, chewing at the end of his unlit cigarette. "The trick is to get under your opponents' skin," he said matter-of-factly.

"Oh, is _that_ all," Mustang scoffed, his dark eyes drifting over where Hawkeye and Fuery were clearing the board for the next game. Of them all, Mustang knew the First Lieutenant the best, so he had good reason to believe that Havoc had no clue what he was doing.

But Havoc had known and observed the woman long enough to have an idea of things that would likely affect her in some way. And he only needed something to work once.

"That _is_ all. Wish me luck Boss," he said, stashing his cigarette into his pocket as he stood and waved towards the two members still at the dart board. "Alright, I'm up next Hawkeye!" he called, grabbing some spare darts off of Falman before joining them.

Hawkeye nodded to Havoc in a friendly manner as she rolled her own darts along her fingers. "After you, Second Lieutenant."

"Are you ever gonna call me Jean?" Havoc grinned as he stepped up to the firing spot. When she didn't respond, he merely shrugged and fired off his shot without warning. He smiled smugly as his dart scored him a triple twenty.

He vacated the space, using both hands to welcome his opponent up to the spot. He watched with eager eyes as Riza Hawkeye threw the first of her darts with all the aim and precision to be expected of the Hawk's Eye and bagged herself a matching triple twenty, just as Havoc had expected.

"Would you look at that Hawkeye. It seems we've got the same game plan here."

"I don't think so Second Lieutenant. Mine ends with me winning," she said plainly as the others hooted behind them.

Havoc worked his jaw with a grimace. "Well, then I guess it's time to shake things up," he said, flexing his fingers as he readied himself for the next shot. The game was on.

With a soft breath, he released his dart and it landed with a sharp thump on the dartboard.

He grinned widely at Hawkeye, totalling his current score before stepping aside to make room for her. As the woman raised her arm to fire, Havoc casually stepped towards her.

"Hey Hawkeye, you know your hair would look beautiful if you were to wear it down from time to time," he said, voice low so only she could hear. He wore his best flirty pout, but from the sidelong glance she flashed him, she'd already clocked he was attempting to goad her.

She let off her shot without a single hitch, watching with narrowed eyes as it arced through the air and slammed onto the board, exactly where Havoc's had landed. From the small smile she flashed at him, his words had had no effect – her shot had still hit exactly where she'd intended.

Shaking off his first failed attempt at distracting her, Havoc took another shot. He'd have to try harder to get to her next time.

When she got ready to fire again, Havoc talked about how mysterious she was, and that half the bar couldn't help but stare at her - all stuff in his arsenal that would usually have girls swooning at him – but it had no effect on his colleague. Hawkeye only looked him dead in the eye as she fired, equalling the score between them with minimal effort for a second time.

As Havoc's jaw hit the ground, the woman merely smirked at him. "You're gonna have to try harder than that Second Lieutenant."

Havoc bit the inside of his cheek. If he played his shots right, he could win the game in two shots, but not if she kept matching him dart for dart. He had to get both shots perfect and get her to throw at least one, otherwise the night was done.

Glancing back at the sofa, he saw the team watching the two of them. Falman and Fuery gave him a thumbs up as he went to throw, whilst Breda gave the slightly more appreciated middle finger. Havoc couldn't help but notice that Mustang wasn't looking at him at all. The man's gaze seemed to be stuck somewhere to his right where …

He hid his grin behind his hand as he spun to face the dart board again. It seemed like he'd found himself a trump card after all.

His threw his shot, and whilst Hawkeye was lining up her own, he took the opportunity to lean in towards her. She threw him a confused glance as he remained silent, but he knew that his timing had to be just right.

He waited patiently for her to pull the shot back, and right as she was about to release it, he struck.

"Say, how long have you and Mustang been together?"

He knew he had her under his thumb the minute her eyes widened in surprise, disrupting her focus enough that her hand slipped and messed with her aim. The dart he knew would have otherwise landed on the same spot as his own flew through the air wildly and landed on the outer edge of the board, giving him the edge he needed to win.

"Oohoo, Lieutenant," he taunted. "What a shot!" he said, hopping in the spot with glee. A part of him couldn't quite believe that his plan had even worked at all, and it became even more unbelievable when Hawkeye turned to him with a look of pure annoyance on that usually blank face of hers.

"The Colonel and I _aren't_ together."

Havoc whistled low. "I only meant to ask how long you two have known each other Hawkeye. No need to get all worked up over it." He clicked his tongue softly and the First Lieutenant gave him a dark look, warning him against his next words.

He bit his tongue and Hawkeye simply sighed, blowing her hair out of her face before giving up the firing position. As Havoc took up the mantle to shoot, he knew he would have to get the shot perfect.

He knew his limits and getting this far on Riza Hawkeye's bad side was more than enough for him to handle. Any more and it would definitely not be worth the payoff.

Her reaction at least confirmed something Havoc thought to himself, although he was too focused on winning the game to quite place what it was. As he lifted up his dart to his line of sight, he couldn't help but give one final retort, knowing that this would be the final shot that brought him victory.

"Thank you Lieutenant. I believe you've just given me a solid win over almost everyone behind us," he said loudly, his gaze drifting to the sofa. Everyone was watching him with bated breath, but he couldn't help but notice that Mustang was the only one frowning.

Was he really that mad at losing the pool?

Havoc shook off the thought. "One bulls eye coming up," he stated, making sure to aim for the fifty points that would bring his score down to zero.

Any higher or lower and the game was forfeit.

If he went too high he'd lose by default and going too low would give Hawkeye the chance to match his score again and end the game in a tie. He'd distracted her once tonight already, and he highly doubted she'd fall for it again. Besides, he already knew she'd find some way to get back at him for his words earlier and he was reluctant to dig himself in deeper.

Steadying his nerves and shaking hand, he pulled back to fire when he heard an unexpected name from his side.

"Catalina, what in god's name are you wearing?!"

Havoc couldn't help it. Even though he knew not to trust anything Mustang said at any point in the game, he turned without thought to see where the man was looking. The dart flew out of his hands without aim and he turned back just in time to see it veering off course and lodging into a wooden beam in the wall.

Fuck.

Damn that Mustang, he groaned internally. And damn that Catalina too, this was all her fault after all. He turned back to the bar behind him to scan the faces around them and berate her, but no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't see Rebecca anywhere.

So what exactly had the Colonel-

It took one look at the man's half hidden smirk for Havoc to know what was up. It seemed he wasn't the only one playing dirty to win tonight. Hawkeye was too proper to fight fire with fire, but it seemed their superior had no such qualms.

_Fuck_.

He knew even before the First Lieutenant stood to take her next shot that the game was over. Having gained no points this round, she would easily knock her score to zero in the next round and tie with him.

Having already given up, Havoc fired half-heartedly during his next turn and barely hit the board, his score still too high to win. When Hawkeye got the bullseye she needed to hit zero, he heard the sofa behind him, who had all been holding their breath in anticipation, burst into life.

Havoc clicked his tongue in defeat, pulling out his cigarette as Fuery and Falman burst into celebratory whoops – he didn't know why either of them were so excited since neither of them had placed their bets on Hawkeye, but who was he to judge.

A win was a win after all.

When Fuery thrust Hawkeye's hand in the air and named her the reigning champion, Havoc knew he'd need several drinks to take away the sharp sting of defeat. How did he play dirty, come so close, and then still end up losing?

It was embarrassing when he thought about it.

As he passed by the sofa on his way to the bar, the Colonel caught his eye with a smug smile. Havoc continued walking right past him without commenting on it. He was much too sober to be engaging in a dispute with his superior officer, that was for sure.

* * *

The rain splashed against the windows of the car with a rhythmic drumming, accompanied by the occasional swish of the wipers as Riza drove to the East City Barracks – the others having been too inebriated to even attempt to get behind the wheel.

Sergeant Fuery had called shotgun, and within seconds of sitting down, had proceeded to fall asleep against the door and add his light snores to the already loud weather outside.

Behind her, she could hear the other four bickering about their winnings, or losings, for the night. Well, Havoc seemed to be the only one bickering, the others were either gloating or attempting to keep from falling asleep.

"You know what I don't even care anymore," Havoc slurred, having attempted to drown his loss with his cup. "I had that win in that bag till you threw me off at the end. Why'd you do it Boss. Is it cause you really _do_ have a thing for Hawkeye, huh?"

Riza tried her hardest to keep her eyes on the road, but she couldn't resist peeking at rear-view mirror. Havoc was staring at their superior with a narrowed gaze, half leaning over the top of Falman who looked half a second away from passing out.

The Colonel's face was blank and unreadable. He said nothing, responding only by lifting a wad of cash out from his pocket and waving it at Havoc in answer. The Second Lieutenant had the gall to look disappointed as his head bounced between Breda and Mustang, the two winners of the night, and she shook her head softly as she returned her eyes to the road.

The back of the car fell silent not long after, and Riza got the distinct impression that it was because they'd all fallen asleep. But when she glanced behind to confirm, she was met with a pair of dark eyes that watched her with an intense look.

The Colonel's lips quirked into a little smile as she caught him, but he didn't look away. Her gaze flitted between the road and the mirror, but his eyes remained on her up until the moment the car came to a halt and the others began to stir.

The group fell out of the car and straight into the dreary late night, with not a single one of them prepared enough to have brought along an umbrella. They shivered as the cold rain washed away their sleepiness, bidding their farewells as quickly as possible before beginning the short run to their barracks.

Mustang however hung back. Riza could feel his gaze on her as she locked up the car, and he fell into step with her as she began to walk.

"You didn't have to wait for me Colonel. We're headed in different directions," she pointed out.

Mustang merely shrugged. His hair was already so soaked with rainwater that it clung to his forehead, and Riza had no doubt that her own was doing something similar. Although, she wasn't the one with the aversion to water.

They walked together in silence, pausing at the edge of the street where they would part ways. She was about to wish him a goodnight when his hand landed firmly on her shoulder, keeping her from leaving.

"Hang on a second Lieutenant," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the wad of cash he'd waved at Havoc earlier. "Your winnings for the night."

"I didn't join the bet, Sir," she clarified, refusing the money.

"Yeah, but I figure since you're the only reason I won you should get a cut. You could buy yourself some nice flowers or something."

"No thank you, Sir. It's yours, you should spend it on whatever you like."

"Can I spend it on flowers _for_ you?"

"Roy, no," she retorted. "I mean, Sir."

Riza's face burned hot at the momentary slip, but her superior officer barely seemed to care. As she looked up at him through her lashes, she saw him pouting like a child as he replaced the money in his coat pocket.

He turned to her with a sigh. "I suppose you'll be going now."

"Yes. Good night, Colonel."

Mustang gave her a curt nod, but the smile that accompanied it made her dread having to answer the door in the morning for fear of drowning in blooms. She really hoped he wasn't being serious about the flowers.

"Good night, Riza."

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! please excuse the terrible title, i have no brain power left to think of anything good lol. i've been trying to write this since 2017 and it's finally done! i still know next to nothing about darts though. thanks again, and i'd love to know your thoughts if you have the time x


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